The Way We Are
by JustLikeAStar
Summary: Brittany and Santana's relationship, from the moment it blossomed to the moment it ends and everything inbetween, as seen through the eyes of their good friend Quinn Fabray.


_AN: I thought it would be a good idea to write this story through Quinn's perspective, so although the story will mostly deal with Brittany and Santana and their relationship it will also deal with Quinn's issues and such. Because she's quite close with Brittany and Santana and seems to know more about their relationship than other people, I thought it would be interesting to write about how she feels about it. There will still be plenty of Brittana and some parts will be written from Santana and Brittany's perspectives too. Hope you enjoy :-)_

The moment Noah Puckerman, known to all of his friends, peers, and enemies as the infamous "Puck" slammed full force into Santana Lopez, the most unruly girl I have ever met in my life, was the moment it all began. I had watched from the sidelines with the other kindergarteners, not knowing whether to be scared or amused. I had watched with growing uneasiness as Puck had burst into the classroom, running like a bat out of hell, something he had always done back then. Only this time Santana happened to have gotten caught in the crossfire.

I remember how our teacher, I forget her name, had fought to separate the two as they squabbled relentlessly. I merely looked on wondering how anyone could possibly act like that. I had always been quiet and reserved, especially as a child. I would usually keep to myself, sitting alone in the corner of the room with my favourite doll and refusing to play with the other children. It felt more relaxed and comfortable, and it meant that I didn't have to associate with hooligans such as Puck and Santana.

I had noticed Santana from the moment she had first waltzed into the classroom. She had that look about her, suggesting that she would be trouble, and she most definitely turned out to be the biggest trouble-maker of the class besides Puck. Whenever there was any commotion, you could be sure that it was either Puck or Santana that had caused it.

Even so, there was also something that separated Santana from the other children. She seemed so strong, even when I first met her all those years ago and we had just been kids, I had known it right away. She could defend herself and would never hesitate to get involved in any sort of brawl if anyone got in her way. I suppose that was what drew me to her, what made me like her. She could hold her own, and she was also very protective when it came to her friends.

And it was that day, the day our kindergarten teacher pulled her and Puck apart as they yelled and clawed at eachother, that I realised there was a lot more to Santana than I had originally thought.

"_He started it!" _Santana barked, flailing madly in her attempt to get at Puck, who merely snorted at her.

"You should have watched where you were going, stupid!" he retorted, having stopped struggling.

Santana pushed our teacher away and stormed off, arms folded tightly across her chest. I watched with interest as she stalked across to the corner of the room and sat down by herself, arms still folded, staring furiously at the wall.

This surprised me. Usually, Santana was the girl who would try desperately to be the centre of attention. She and Puck had quarelled many times before and it usually just rolled right off her back. She'd give him a smug look and walk off to taunt some other kid, and he'd do the same. Though they argued constantly, Puck and Santana had always quite liked each other, and that never changed throughout the years. I sensed there was something different going on with Santana today that had caused her to react so strangely to this.

For some reason I found myself getting up from the table I had been sitting at and walking slowly towards her, still clutching my favourite doll tightly against my chest. She didn't even look up as I sat down gingerly in the chair beside her. She kept her eyes fixed on the wall, arms still folded.

I wondered whether I should speak or not, and being quite a shy little girl, it took some time before I was able to even figure out what I was going to say to her. "Are you okay?" I asked, looking up at her shyly.

Santana's eyes snapped across to me and she slowly turned her head. "Go away," was all she said, but she didn't yell or snap at me. She sounded quite sad when she said it. This made me wonder.

"Puck's just mean," I said matter-of-factly, staring at the wall like she was doing.

"I know that, stupid," Santana replied, but it was in that same sad tone of voice as before.

"So why are you being so moody?" I asked, the words escaping my lips before I could even stop myself. Santana slowly turned and stared at me in disbelief. I prepared for her to hit me or slap me like she would do to any of the other kids if they talked to her like that but she didn't. She simply stared at me, then looked down.

"My Mom was crying today," she said in a bleak voice, "She was fighting with Daddy again."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't really know much about parents fighting, since my parents would always appear happy and in love. Everything at home was perfect for me, I had everything I wanted and I was spoilt rotten. As time went on, I slowly began to realise that Santana didn't have it all like I did. She wasn't well off, and her parents didn't give her the time of day. But back then I was five years old and I didn't understand what it meant when parents fought.

I looked down at my doll, then back to Santana, who had started to cry. I held my doll out to her, "Want to hug her? She'll make you feel better," I said, almost afraid she would get mad and hit me or something. However, Santana stared down at the doll, then back at me, and took it from my hands.

"Thanks," she grunted, returning to her hard exterior almost at once. Though she didn't hug the doll, she still held it in her hands. "What's your name?" she asked after a moment's silence, in a mechanical voice.

"Quinn," I said at once, offering a small smile, though I was still wary of her, "Quinn Fabray."

"I'm Santana," Santana said quietly, and I nodded, though I already knew her name. I couldn't believe she was actually talking to me, and I began to wonder if I had judged her too quickly. We sat in silence together for a while longer, until the end of the day.

And that was how I first properly met Santana Lopez.


End file.
